


We Already Said Goodbye

by lizwontcry



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Jesse has a dog, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24906313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/pseuds/lizwontcry
Summary: There was a knock at the door of the cabin. When he opened it, he wasn't entirely shocked to see who was behind it. Part of him always figured this day would come, because if Jesse Pinkman knew anything, it was that Walter White would never stop haunting him, alive or not.
Relationships: Jesse Pinkman/Walter White
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	We Already Said Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I just can't seem to stop writing about these two. Thanks for reading!

_But they already said goodbye..._

There was a knock at the door of the cabin. When he opened it, he wasn't entirely shocked to see who was behind it. Part of him always figured this day would come, because if Jesse Pinkman knew anything, it was that Walter White would never stop haunting him, alive or not.

How did you escape the police?

How did you survive the gunshot wound?

How has the cancer not killed you yet?

How did you find me?

_Why are you here? We already said goodbye..._

Jesse did not ask any of these questions. He just let Walter ("Mr. White" was a thing of the past, of a different time, and he no longer thought of the man in those terms) in, avoiding his gaze. Rufus, Jesse's rescued Sheepdog, cautiously sniffed Walter and then went back to his doggy bed, apparently not interested in Jesse's visitor.

"Cute dog."

"Yeah, I found him on the side of the road. You should have seen him--he was a real mess. But he's a good boy. You want a beer?" Jesse asked, like Walt was a buddy he met at work in Alaska and not his mortal enemy and perhaps closest friend at one time.

"Yes. Thank you."

This Walter White looked different than the last time Jesse saw him, nearly three months ago. He seemed to be remarkably healthy, for one thing, which was the most shocking thing about his appearance. He gained a bit of weight, cut his hair (but not all of it), still had a beard but it was well-manicured. It wasn't logical that Walt was still alive and not in prison, but again, Jesse didn't ask questions. Instead, they had a conversation.

"I'm sorry." For the most part, Walt really did look like he was sorry.

"I am, too." Jesse _was_ sorry, but probably in a different way than Walt was.

"I know it went too far. I know I hurt you. I know you'll never forgive me."

The conversation went on like this for a while. They talked. They acknowledged the truth. They healed some wounds. Obviously nothing would ever be the same for either of them, but... this was needed. It was necessary. Jesse felt some kind of release, although he wasn't sure if it was a good one or not. _They had already said goodbye_. At the compound, before Jesse drove away, they acknowledged each other's continued existence and their complicated history together, and then they went their separate ways. _They had already said goodbye._

By the time they ran out of conversation, it was nearly midnight. Walt got up from kitchen table, shrugging on his over-sized coat.

"And I thought New Hampshire was the most isolated place I could go," Walt said. "You sure did choose to escape to the coldest place possible."

"You get used to it. And... I didn't exactly expect anyone to find me," Jesse muttered. Walt looked a tiny bit chastened by this.

"Yo, look, you can stay... there's no lodging around here for at least 30 miles in every direction. I don't... have a bed yet, so." Jesse pointed to the air mattress on the floor. His first project in Alaska was handcrafting his own bed, which was still a work in progress.

"You... don't mind?" Walt asked. Jesse tried to read his face but as usual, his former partner was effective at hiding any proof of emotion in his eyes.

"No... you came all this way," Jesse said. Walt nodded. 

Jesse put on his heavy coat and took Rufus for a short walk around the cabin so Rufus could do his business. When Jesse came back, Walt was already in bed.

After making sure Rufus was attended to and checking to make sure all the doors and windows were locked (not that it mattered, really, since apparently anyone could find him), Jesse got in bed next to Walt. Jesse had an effective and reliable heater but the cold was still unavoidable. 

"Let me know if you need a sweater or something," Jesse said. "It gets really chilly in the middle of the night."

"I will," Walt said. His voice was scratchy and deep; it gave Jesse pangs of nostalgia that he had no business feeling.

The air mattress was a queen size. Jesse had just enough room on his side that he didn't feel Walt next to him. But with just the smallest of adjustments by Walt and Jesse instantly felt the pressure of Walt's body heat on his own back.

Jesse tried to close his eyes and sleep, but it was impossible. Walt wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't even supposed to be alive. Jesse shouldn't have forgiven him for _anything_ , and yet he did. He would never understand why he was such a gullible idiot when it came to this man beside him. Why did Walter White have such a tangible grasp on Jesse's entire soul?

What transpired next between the two of them was not planned, nor was it much of a surprise. It was an extension of what they never acted on but was always just under the surface of their former interactions, especially near the end of their partnership. The love and hate between them was permanently ingrained in them, and it was never equal, but it was always there.

He felt Walt turn around so that he was facing Jesse's back. Jesse's heart bottomed out in his chest. 

"Jesse..."

Before he even questioned what he was doing, Jesse turned around, too. They were face to face. Jesse was staring right into Walt's dark blue-green eyes; intense as always. Walt promptly put one arm around Jesse's waist, pulling him closer. Jesse scooted down ever so slightly so that he could place his head on Walt's chest. He could hear Walt's heart and he swore that it was beating just as hard as his own.

Jesse couldn't help but slide his finger down Walt's stomach--he needed the contact and tried not to question why. There was the cancer surgery scar that Jesse has seen plenty of times; he touched it softly. Walt sighed a little. Just below the scar... there it was, the bullet wound. The proof that Walt really had been shot at the compound. It was real, and yet... Walt was still alive. Jesse touched it and looked at Walt with curiosity in his eyes.

"Would you accept that it's a long, complicated story?" Walt asked, placing his hand on Jesse's, caressing his thumb with his own, causing Jesse to completely forget anything he wanted to know. He quickly came to the realization that he was craving a warm touch, and not just from anyone. From the man in the bed beside him. He thought that was pretty fucked up, but again... it didn't exactly come as a shock.

"Maybe I shouldn't... but I do," Jesse said softly. He moved his hand to Walt's back, aroused by the warmth of his skin. Jesse wanted to touch him everywhere, he wanted to explore all the taboo paths they dared not to cross before.

Walt tipped Jesse's chin up a bit with his fingers, and Jesse gave in quickly to the strange but welcome feeling of Walt's lips on his own. Jesse tried to move closer to him, practically tried to merge as one with him, and Walt eagerly pulled him tighter to his own body. Soon, their tongues inevitably met. The kissing was sweet as it was sloppy, like they were trying to prove two theories at once. Part of Jesse knew he should put a stop to this; Walt had done so much to ruin Jesse's entire life--not just his life, but his whole world. And yet, that's what made it even better. The wrongness felt so... right. Whatever; it's not like Jesse ever followed the rules. It's not like he ever really did what was good for him. That was well documented.

It was getting colder in the cabin but their body heat kept them warm, even as they took one item of clothing off at a time. They never stopped kissing as their hands roamed everywhere that had once been forbidden. And they didn't talk. The only sound was their moans, groans, and sharp exhales. 

Jesse's arousal flared when he touched Walt only to discover how very hard he was. Before he could ask himself what the hell he was doing, he was stroking Walt, trying to make it good for him, trying to make it last, trying to... it's like Jesse was back in school and wanted to please his teacher. Walt's moans of pleasure and soft sighs of contentment was everything Jesse never knew he needed. Well... it wasn't _all_ he needed. 

"Jesse..."

Walt seemed to be questioning him, asking him how far he wanted to take this.

"I need... I want you..." Jesse breathed, hating himself and not giving a single fuck at the same time. This went from zero to sixty so fast, but maybe that's what needed to happen between them. Maybe it was better they didn't have any time to question it. 

They kissed for a long time before Jesse handed him the jar he kept by his bed. They never stopped touching each other. Walt experimented with his fingers, the pressure, the pain. Jesse only nodded, urging Walt to give him more, more, _more._ When Walt _finally_ entered Jesse, Jesse closed his eyes and buried his face in Walt's neck. This was new, this was painful, this high was what he was always trying to achieve with the meth and eventually the heroin. Walt crushed his lips against Jesse's, their tongues meeting, Jesse desperately moaning into Walt's mouth. When Walt knew they were both close, he stroked Jesse until he couldn't last any longer; with Walt inside of him crashing again and again, and his hand on his warmth... he came into Walt's hand, succumbing to the symphony of the moment. 

They laid together in silence, Jesse's face still buried in Walt's neck, trying to find his breath--trying to find his heart. Instead of talking, they fell asleep. It seemed like the best option.

When Jesse woke up, it was morning, and Rufus was licking his hand. Walt was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he dreamed it.

Maybe it was a nightmare.

Maybe it was both.

Jesse would have laid in bed and gave in to his oncoming depression all day if Rufus didn't need him, so instead he took Rufus for a walk. 

It had snowed overnight. There were tire tracks leading away from the cabin. The only sign that Walt had been there after all.

At least it wasn't a dream.

But maybe it was still a nightmare.

So Jesse waited. He waited a long time. He worked on making his new bed, going to the hardware store once a week to buy more supplies. He and Rufus took long walks together in the cold. He even started writing a book about his life, which obviously he was never going to publish. It was cathartic, in a way.

And he waited for Walt to come back.

Because he knew it wasn't a dream.

And they had already said goodbye.


End file.
